


With Me

by UndertheBloodMoon



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Childhood Friends, Children, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:20:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24022747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UndertheBloodMoon/pseuds/UndertheBloodMoon
Summary: Scanlan Shorthalt can't say he's a good man. He's tried to be better, but that takes time. Time that seems to have run out.When the battle with Vecna ended with a victory, Scanlan assumed life would go back to some sort of normal, eventually. All hopes of that soon flew out the window when he discovers he was the only member of Vox Machina to survive.Scanlan Shorthalt can't say he's a good man. He's tried to be better, but he sometimes slips. He's always been selfish, to a certain degree, and that shows now when he decides he won't accept this ending to Vox Machina's story.He's the bard. He decides how this ends. And it won't end like this.
Relationships: Kima/Allura Vysoren, Scanlan Shorthalt & Vox Machina, The Mighty Nein & The Mighty Nein, Veth Brenatto/Yeza Brenatto, Vox Machina & Vox Machina
Comments: 15
Kudos: 107





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Fuck Canon Timelines, we're having fun here.
> 
> I lied when I said I wasn't going to expand upon the Reincarnation AU, sorry about that, but here we are! This prologue is taken completely from the chapter in my Random book because I'm too lazy to write something different. Things do stray from the previous form once Vox Machina is laid to rest. We'll see how this goes from there.

The banishment of Vecna was quite the spectacle. The titan was stopped, millions of lives were saved. The wannabe-god of undeath and destruction was gone. Vox Machina would have had some sort of bittersweet celebration if Vecna had not taken most of them with him in the fury of his failure. 

Scanlan Shorthalt laid, sprawled on the streets of Thar Amphala. He was beaten and bloody, his head spinning and reeling from the latest events. Wyvern riders grasped and rescued those clinging from the remnants of the platforms that were crumpling in Vecna's absence, leaving the heroes for just a moment so a healer could be reached and brought. 

It took a moment for him to gain any strength in his body. Everything about the fight was so... Exhausting. He blinked, blearily before shutting his eyes again and finally managing to raise his hand to his ear and grasp the earring that connected all of Vox Machina's members. 

"We did it, you guys..." He rasped, a pained smile spreading across his face. "We... We killed a fucking god. Again? I think?" 

A moment passed.

Several moments passed.

"You guys?" 

Scanlan opened his eyes and forced himself to stand up, his body aching, strained from injury and intense use of his powers. He glanced around, immediately spotting Grog's large shape laying on the street.

"Grog..." He croaked, ignoring the pain in his muscles and crawling over to his friend. He placed his hand on the Goliath's limp arm, using it for stability to try and haul himself onto his knees. "Grog, buddy, hey..." 

No response. 

"G... Grog?" Scanlan shuffled to his head, reaching and letting his hand touch the side of Grog's bearded face. He jerked back almost immediately, the unnatural stillness catching him off guard. "Oh... Fuck."

It took a moment to process. The Goliath was covered in injuries, patches of his skin even dark and withered from necrotic damage from some of Vecna's bullshit. Though, the wounds were nothing Scanlan hadn't seen on a walking, living Grog before. Then he noticed the blood pooling underneath Grog's head.

Vecna hadn't truly killed him. Falling from a collapsing platform from thousands of feet up had killed him. 

For some reason, Scanlan found that funny. His chest heaved and his body trembled as he coughed out laughter that felt and probably sounded more like sobbing. 

"Okay... Okay... I'll... Just get Pike. She'll help you," Scanlan gave Grog a pat on the head, taking some effort to stand before he turned and continued to look.

It didn't take long for him to find the rest. He found Vex and Percy next. Percy seemed to have been heavily hit by some kind of necrotic spell as well. Vex had her arms wrapped around him, rigor mortis having set in and locked them in place. They would almost have looked like they were sleeping if Vex didn't have such a clear head injury and part of Percy's face wasn't already rotted away. 

Keyleth and Vax were next. The Planetar form was gone and Keyleth was curled against Vax, who was clutching her. He was still alive at least, but barely. He was gazing at her, his eyes almost glazed in a look that Scanlan knew meant his own death was near, but the half-elf's attention was more focused on his lover than his own physical state.

"Hey, Vax..." Scanlan almost collapsed as he grew closer, falling to his knees and into Vax's view. He wasn't sure if Vax could even see him. 

"Sc... Scanlan?"

"Yeah," the gnome grasped at an outstretched hand. Vax's hand wasn't aimed at him. It was more just reaching and hoping to find purchase. He definitely couldn't see. "We did it, man."

"I... Heard..." Vax's lips twitched, trying to smile but it quickly turned into a wince. "Is... Is my sister alright?" 

Scanlan glanced back to where Vex's body was laying, clutching her husband. She might have tried to heal him before she ended up dying herself. He swallowed, hard.

"Pike... Pike's getting to her," he lied. He was good at lying. He could lie and give Vax a little peace. The rogue-paladin might be pissed when he comes back and will probably drag him into the ninth level of the Hells, but Scanlan can worry about that later. "Pike's with her. She's okay."

"Okay," Vax did smile at that. His eyes were still trained on Keyleth's lifeless form. "Can you... Tell her to come help Kiki next?" 

"Already on it," Scanlan took the hand Vax was holding his with and wrapped the arm around Keyleth in a similar embrace to the de Rolos, who were laying a few feet away. "Thank you for helping us. Thank you for coming back. I... I love you. So much. I'm so sorry." 

Vax didn't respond. His eyes, still trained on Keyleth, didn't blink and his already cold body no longer took any breaths. Scanlan swallowed down a sob and stood up again. He just needed to find Pike. Pike can bring them all back. He'll help her find the things necessary. It'll be fine.

It'll be fine.

It'll...

He found Pike last.

She was underneath a piece of stone. It was slightly scorched and barely hiding the splatter of red underneath. He shook and stumble over, slamming himself into the rock. He pushed and he pushed and he slipped and got up and kept pushing. He cried out and slammed his fists against it, alerting one of the wyvern riders who flew down to investigate.

"Sir-?"

"Get it off! Get it off her! Quick, hurry, please!"

The rider looked at him, then at the stone. A flash of sadness and pity crossed over his features before he took his beast and forced it to lift and move the withered piece of stone. A large stain of red went with it. 

Scanlan only looked at what was left behind for a moment before spinning around and collapsing, burying his face into his hands. 

The rock was burned. Her armor brought her back, for just a brief moment hopefully. It still wasn't enough.

Like how her pendant wasn't enough to save Percy.

Scanlan started laughing again. He wheezed and giggled and pulled at his hair as streams of tears ran down his face. 

Of course. Of course this happens. Of course they save the world and then all die afterward. Except him. Why not him too? It didn't make any sense. Vex, Vax, Percy, Keyleth, Pike, _Grog_ didn't manage to survive, yet here he was. Now he had to move on. He had to live with the images of his dead family dancing around in his head. He had to share their stories and look in the faces of Cassandra, of Korrin, of Wilhand, of all their friends and family and tell him that they all died and he managed to escape somewhat unscathed.

Just like Sprigg had predicted.

Fuck.

He couldn't do that. There had to be another way. Scanlan Shorthalt was a selfish, selfish man. He knows that. He's always been that. Old habits die too hard. 

"This probably won't work," Scanlan lowered his hands and spoke out into the unknown. "I don't have the power to _do_ this spell. I used it on... To make sure..." 

He couldn't say it. He couldn't say the name of the bastard that murdered his family. Damn, he was pathetic. But that won't matter if this works. When this works, it _has_ to work. 

"I wish..." Scanlan lifted his hand, weaving the all-powerful spell into his words has his hand weakly drew out the runes needed for the casting. He considered what he was wishing for a moment. He glanced around before finally deciding. "I wish all of the souls of Grog, Pike, Keyleth, Percival, Vex'ahlia, Vax'ildan and I meet again, at some point in the future, whether it be now or a hundred years from now and we remain together forever."

He hesitated on finalizing it. Then he released it. "Please. Please. I just need them. I need them with me."

The spell sparked and disappeared into the air. Scanlan stared up into the sky, watching as the clouds began to part and the sun began to shine- _No- How dare you? How_ dare _you continue on like any of this was good. How dare life go on without them?_ -and let out a soft breath. It didn't work. Of course-

Scanlan felt cold begin to race through him, causing his muscles to seize and lock in pain. He let out a choked gasp, feeling a great pain tear through him. He's never cast a spell without having the strength needed to do so. He's heard it was dangerous. He's heard it was idiotic. Maybe this is proof. 

Scanlan's vision began to darken. Was he dying? Was he going to die for this? 

_... Good. Good. Okay, cool._ He was alright with that. As far as everyone else knows, they all died defeating Vecna. _That's fine._

Just as his vision began to fade, he noticed something odd. Long, glowing, golden threads began to sprout and rise from the bodies of his friends. The one growing from Vax was frayed and damaged and seemed like it was being pulled in a different direction before it began to slow as Keyleth's and Vex's and the others began to wrap and knot around it. The thread was pulled in with the others and abandoned its previous destination as it was dragged upward with the rest. He could feel a cool, harsh presence near him and he could hear the angry cry of a raven. 

One thread sprouted from his chest and stretched out, winding and tangling with the others as they all stretched up into the heavens. Scanlan forced a smile to spread across his stiff face. 

_I'll see you all there..._

And then there was nothing.


	2. When Ravens Meet Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bren Aldric Ermendrud was born in Blumenthal to a loving mother and father two years after the events with Vecna.
> 
> Despite the love his parents poured into him, Bren didn't grow up as a very... Normal boy. And when a new face shows up in the small town of Blumenthal, they learn just how strange this child was.

Bren was never a happy baby. He never smiled, never laughed. At first, his parents assumed he was just colicky, something not uncommon in young infants. But then his first birthday came and he continued to scream bloody murder at night. No matter how much they rocked, sang, hummed, or cooed, he would be inconsolable for up to hours at a time.

"He's looking for attention," their neighbors told them. "You've rewarded that behavior all his life."

So they tried to stop rewarding it. Una and Leofric would clutch each other at night as their little boy would scream and wail like he was in pain. They turned a blind eye to his occasional, random whimpering and trembling, trying to take the advice. That was soon abandoned when his crying cut short at night and when Leofric went to check on him, he found the small boy hyperventilating in his bed.

He wasn't choking, that was certain. His airways were clear, yet he still seemed to have trouble breathing. It ended almost suddenly after several painful minutes of holding the boy with him gasping and sobbing. The terror in his eyes was too genuine to brush it off as an act. Since that night, Bren slept curled in between his parents. The fits of crying still came, though not as often.

"It's like he's having nightmares..." Una murmured one night, sitting up with her whimpering son curled in her arms. 

"Nightmares of what?" Her husband said with a sigh, sitting up as well and simply watching them. "He's barely two years old. What nightmares could such a young boy have?"

His "gasping" fit happened again when a friend gifted him with a red dragon plush toy. The moment he saw it in his mother's hands, he gave a feeble cry before it seemed as if his breath was caught in his throat.

"If I didn't know any better," the same friend said, after hiding the stuffed toy as Una soothed her son. "I'd say he just had a panic attack."

That was too concerning for them not to finally try and contact a professional. They only had enough money to make ends meet, but this was more important.

_Post-Traumatic-Stress-Disorder_ is what they were told. A long name that made little sense to them. 

"He's traumatized," was the explanation, along with suspicion stares. A pleading hand on his arm from Una was the only thing keeping Leofric from getting angry and almost proving their false suspicions. 

"How could he be traumatized?!" Una fretted as Bren napped, seemingly peacefully, for now. "We didn't do anything to him, did we? Was it when we were ignoring him?"

"No, he was acting like this before then," Leofrick assured his wife, but tears, uncertainty, and guilt filled her eyes and didn't seem like they would be going away anytime soon. "We'll figure something out."

Bren fussed in his place on the bed for a moment or two before he woke up with a scream. He was babbling incoherently as his mother scooped him up, but it almost seemed like he was crying about "Dragons".

•••

Building the Darrington Brigade wasn't an easy task. Not everyone was as eager to work as mercenaries when you aren't getting any of the earnings as Taryon was. A shame really. At least Lawrence and his mother were still supportive.

Traveling around the continent to find members wasn't all that bad. It reminded Tary of his early days as an adventurer, back when it was mainly just him and Doty before Vox-...

Ah… even _thinking_ of the name Vox Machina still hurt. Killed in Action, died the death of heroes. Nothing about their deaths felt noble to him. When he heard the news- _and it took forever for him to properly find out, though the glowing of the dragon tooth necklace he still owned as a keepsake had given him a sickening clue, because he lived so far and was low on the list of people who needed to know, which hurt even worse in some ways_ \- he was… angry, mostly. Angry at Vecna, angry at those who failed to protect them. They were all so _young_ , so still full of life. They had a fatigue to them that Tary had only a taste of from his time spent fighting at their side, but they would have lived to touch hundreds of more lives if only given a chance. But they weren't.

Tary had previously lied about being the only surviving member of his past parties, thinking it made him look strong and powerful. With that being true now, he didn't feel either of those things. He just felt… lonely. He silently longed for Vex'ahlia- _little elf girl, or some abbreviation of the title since she had told him so long ago that it brought up unpleasant memories_ \- and her stories that went on for years. For Percival Fredickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III- _or Percy, as the man would insist with a chuckle. "My friends call me Percy."_ \- who always looked so handsome covered in black power and soot, despite Tary's firm attempts to respect that he was very much spoken for and quite uninterested in that sort of relationship. Thankfully that didn't matter once he reunited with Larry again. 

Tary hadn't experienced loss like that… possibly since Doty broke down in the Hells. Though this was quite different. He could build another Doty, which he had several times now. You couldn't build another Vox Machina. At least, not in a way that wasn't… creepy or horrifically unnatural. And Tary wasn't looking to deal with anything creepy or horrifically unnatural at least until he had the Brigade set up. 

He had to admit, he was a bit nervous about searching in Rexxentrum for members. He has never had to travel so deep within the Empire before and it simply seemed like a bad idea to flood the capital with his flyers and such. So, instead, he traveled to the small towns and such set up nearby the large city.

The Zemni Fields probably wasn't a place to go when searching for adventurers. It was a quiet, farming town where children ran around barefoot and people went in and out of the various small homes and markets often. It was more of a rest stop, hoping he could find someplace to spend a night or maybe buy more traveling supplies. It didn't seem like there was much to offer. Everyone spoke in a different language but would briefly switch to Common simply to greet him, which was rather nice. He had only really spoken with Doty, who wasn't that great at conversation, during his journey, and even simply hearing someone say anything back to him, other than his own name, was a bit refreshing. He almost wished he had brought Lionel along, but he'd left him at home since Larry wouldn't really know what to do if recruits showed up while Tarry was away. 

"Doty, do you think any of them have much room to spare, or do you think we should move on?" Tary asked his metal companion lightly.

"Tary."

"Yes, I agree-"

A burst of adrenaline kicked through him when he heard a screech. He spun towards it and reached for a weapon, instinct kicking in from when loud noises only meant danger, but soon that melted into confusion when he saw the source of the screaming was a young toddler who was struggling in the hands of a woman.

The woman was speaking to the boy in Zemnian but her words were falling on deaf ears, especially when the child twisted and tumbled from her grip and made a sprint towards him.

"Woah- hey now!" Tary easily scooped up the child, who stared at him with wide, awe-stricken blue eyes. "What's going on, kiddo? Are you being kidnapped? Do you need a rescue?"

The boy reached and touched his bearded cheek with a small hand and broke into a grin, wiggling in his hold and reaching with both hands. The woman who had been holding him, who had the same blue eyes as the child, along with a man with the same auburn hair came running up to him, eyes wide and the woman clearly shaken. 

"So sorry!" She sputtered, her voice heavy with the native accent around here. "So sorry- _Bren! Was hast du dir dabei gedacht, so wegzulaufen? Du hättest verletzt werden können!_ "

Tary hesitantly handed the boy back to the woman, noting with some relief that he didn't seem afraid of her. The boy, Bren maybe, just looked up at the woman, the smile dropping off his face and eyes watering again and he murmured in this foreign language with one hand reaching to Tary again. It had more of the appearance of a parent refusing to give the child a beloved treat rather than a kid being handled by strangers.

"Oh, I don't mind at all!" Tary let the boy grab at his hand again, watching as a small smile appeared again. "I'm quite shiny, I'd run up to get a better look as well."

The parents seemed shocked when they noticed their son was smiling so brightly. Little Bren leaned forward and grabbed for Tary again, though the blond looked for permission this time before taking him. The woman passed him over with a slightly stunned expression. 

"Have you heard stories of the great Taryon Darrington, son?" Bren seemed to smile wider when he said that and nodded quickly. "Is that so? Well, you seem like a bold one. You'd fit right into the Brigade."

Bren laughed at that. Tary didn't notice how the parents seemed to start and blink dumbly at the scene as if they've never seen a toddler smile and giggle before. Tary was enjoying it, seeing that he still wasn't getting that much recognition and was kind of taking whatever bit of attention he got from the outside world. Even if that was in the form of a three-year-old. 

"Well, I'll definitely have a talk with your parents to see if you could join one day-" Tary went on, only to see the boy's eyes were locked on Doty.

"Doty!" Bren squirmed and reached for the robot. "Doty!"

"Ah, yes, this is Doty number… four? Maybe?" Tary couldn't remember for the life of him but turned so Bren could have a better reach. "I forget, you'll have to excuse me. The last two were a bit… faulty."

" _Nummer zwei war bei Percy_ ," Bren muttered, startling Tary a bit with the mention of his old friend. " _Du hast ihn mit Percy gebaut._ " 

"He said… Ah…" the woman offered softly. "He said you built number two with… Percy?"

"I did!" Tary said brightly, then hesitated a bit. "How did you… did I mention that in my book? I forget." He turned to the parents. "Did I?"

"We… we don't know your… your book," The woman admitted a tad helplessly. It seemed she wasn't used to speaking in Common. Understandable, seeing how he rarely heard Common used outside of just greeting him. 

"My book? _The Daring Trials and Tribulations of Sir Taryon Darrington?_ You've never heard of it?"

The woman and the man shook their heads. 

_Well, that was odd. How else would this boy know about me? Maybe other people in this town have heard and told him. But…_

"Ah, well," Tary looked down at the little boy. "You're a smart one, aren't you? Tell me this, son, Bren was it? Bren, tell me, what happened to the original Doty?"

" _Die Höllen_ ," Bren said, whatever it was that he said startling his parents. He then looked at Doty and frowned before speaking in shaky Common. "He… He burned."

" _Woher weiß er von den Höllen?_ " The man muttered rapidly before the woman said to Tary, "He… ah… Bren said he burned in the Hells." 

Tary blinked. "And you've never read my book to him?"

The parents shook their heads, looking just as dumbfounded. 

"Well…" Tary turned back to Bren, who was busying himself by running his fingertips gently over the breastplate of the man's armor. "Another question, Bren, how did I prove myself to Vox Machina?"

"You failed our test," Bren chirped back, in Common suddenly clearer than his parents had just spoken, a more cheekily looking grin spreading on his little face. "You cried."

His parents chuckled uneasily, but a low blush was working its way on Tary's face as he remembered the scene Bren had referred to. Vox Machina, minus Vex, had challenged him to fight them to prove his strength. Vax'ildan had whacked him with the hilt of his dagger, making blood leak from his mouth, nose, and ears. His poison spray hadn't affected them as much as he expected. Percy and Keyleth stood towards the back, urging him on with boredom in their tones even after they had to wipe acid from their skins. That was the moment he realized how serious this assorted group of strangers was and regretted everything he had done since the first moment he introduced himself to them. 

He hadn't written their first interaction anything like that. Bren would have needed to hear it from the mouths of Vox Machina themselves to know that-

_"You failed our test…"_

_Failed… **our** … test._

" _Herr_ Darrington?" The father asked hesitantly, having probably noticed the blank look on Tary's face. 

Taryon blinked several times, focusing back on the child in his arms. Bren was still busying himself with the man's breastplate, but looked up and smiled when he noticed Tary was staring at him. A small chill passed through the blond, an odd feeling of… recognition passing through him. He could see the same in this boy's eyes, bright and full of recognition and joy, like Tary was an old friend who he hadn't seen in a long while. 

"May I… ah…" Taryon looked back at the parents, who seemed like they were seconds from taking their child from him. Fair, he supposed. "May I have a word with you both?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any Zemnian (German) spoken in this chapter was through the help of Google Translate so forgive me Zemnian Critters if any of the grammer and such is wrong!
> 
> Translated Zemnian (or what I intended it to say):
> 
>  _Bren! Was hast du dir dabei gedacht, so wegzulaufen? Du hättest verletzt werden können!_ = What were you thinking, running away like that? You could have gotten hurt!
> 
>  _Nummer zwei war bei Percy. Du hast ihn mit Percy gebaut._ = Number two was with Percy. You built him with Percy.
> 
>  _Die Höllen._ = The Hells.
> 
>  _Woher weiß er von den Höllen?_ = How does he know about the Hells?
> 
>  _Herr Darrington?_ = Mr. Darrington?


	3. Odd Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taryon had been charmed by the child in the beginning, but that charm long faded to heavy puzzlement as Bren began to show just how... unique he truly was. 
> 
> With both the Ermendruds and Tary lost on how to understand little Bren's thoughts and knowledge that seem older than him, Tary leaves to Tal'Doeri in search for someone who may know more.

Mr and Mrs Ermendrud weren't _too_ sure about letting Tary into their home which was… fair. Leaving Doty outside seemed to ease their nerves, though Bren seemed a bit disappointed at that.

Speaking of Bren, the boy was _beyond_ attached to him. He babbled in Zemnian, his parents having given up on translating since he was speaking so much so quickly, and clinging to Tary's arms and neck and legs. He was grinning and bouncing, which was fairly normal for a toddler, Tary thought, although his parents stared at their son like they barely recognized him. Bren continued to tug him around, show him toys, introduce him to his cat, and chat as if Tary could understand every word he was speaking. Common, obviously, didn't come easy to a boy living in a town that spoke their own native language, but his moments of speaking Common were terrifyingly clear for a child whose parents couldn't even speak the language as clear as him.

The things he said were equally as scary. Tary had begun to recognize small words, like _Vati_ for Dad and _Teddybär_ for Teddy Bear, but for the most part he was lost. Though, as you normally do with small children, he answered as if he understood. And that drew out some odd things from Bren.

" _Mein Vati ist ein Kämpfer,_ " Bren had said while turning a small wooden soldier in his hands. Tary had no clue what most of that sentence meant, but _Vati_ was familiar.

"Yes, your Dad seems very nice," he replied simply, hoping that was the correct answer.

Bren then stopped and looked at him, setting the toy down a bit. "Is your Daddy nicer to you now?"

 _Chills…_ "Ah… yes. Yes, we're… working on our relationship, yes."

"My first Daddy wasn't nice either. _Fick deinen Vater_ ," Bren said fairly casually as he turned his attention back to the toy. His parents stared wide eyed from the couch next to them and began whispering to each other. _That was a… a good sign... surely…_

"You're, ah… your _first_ Daddy? You had two?" Tary asked, trying not to seem as freaked out as he was while he began inspecting some of Bren's other toys. 

" _Ja._ He wasn't nice. My _Mutti_ was really nice. Both my _Vati und Mutti_ are nice now."

"Oh, well, that's nice…"

He eventually pulled himself away from Bren, who was able to contently play by himself for a little without rushing to force Tary to join him. Mrs. Ermendrud, or Una as she introduced herself as, had made tea for them and they sat around the small dining table with a slight awkwardness in the air.

"He… We have never seen him this… happy before," Una admitted softly, her thick accent making the Common words choke out of her a bit, but they were understandable. "He is so… so happy, with you. It is… very strange."

"I'm not usually that popular with small children. I mean, I see why I would be, but…" Tary gestured to the armor Una had insisted he removed while he was visiting and outside where Doty was patiently waiting. "Yes, this is quite strange for me too. He's a very smart boy, however."

"He has always... been very… very quiet," Leofric leaned sideways in his chair to peer back where Bren was occupying himself in the living room, the sounds of wood tapping against wood coming from where the toddler played. "I… assume he has been just… observing."

"Maybe, maybe," Tary sipped at the tea before setting it down again. "Anyway, Mr and Mrs Ermendrud. What I was meaning to speak to you about is… the things your son has been… telling me."

"We have never heard these… these things before," Una said, frowning at her own cup like it didn't look appetizing. "But he is only three… three years old… I suppose if his, his imagination was to appear eventually…"

"Yes, of course," Tary replied, folding his hands and placing them onto the table. "The only issue is, his imaginary information about me is frighteningly accurate for a child I have no connections with. Do you have any ideas where he could have learned about me?"

The couple glanced at each other, just as helpless and confused as they had been before, and shook their heads.

Just as that happened, Bren came running in again. "Tary! T!"

"Yes, my friend?" Tary turned and smiled at the boy, trying not to overthink the nickname. "I'm just having a chat with your-"

"I hid your armor!" Bren pointed at the golden metal wear and grinned with an almost familiar mischief. 

"... excuse me?"

"It wasn't Percy!" The boy giggled before racing out once more.

Taryon stared in the direction the boy had disappeared in before slowly turning back to the parents, who still appeared lost. More chills ran up Tary's spine.

_"While you were messing about with Grog, Percy grabbed your shit and hid it."_

_"-it also wasn't Percival, it was my brother… who did it."_

Vax had a certain glimmer to his eyes at the time that Tary wasn't able to recognize, but looking back, it was definitely something like the mischief that was seen in Bren's. It became clear once Vex had cleared up the misunderstanding. 

It probably wouldn't have been strange if Bren had left with hiding the armor. The fact that he mentioned _Percy_ , however… and still spoke in first person…

"I have a question for you," Tary turned back to the parents finally. "Has he… has he ever shown signs of… knowing more about things than he should at this age? Other than… everything going on with me."

"Well…" Leofric glanced at his wife once more. "He, ah… he's… had a fear of anything… dragon-like since-"

" _Dragon-like_ you said?" Tary quickly clarified and leaned back in his chair when they nodded. "Anything dragon-like?"

"Well… not the… ah- _Was ist das Wort?_ \- ah… _Drachengeboren?_ "

"Dragonborns," Una translated for her struggling husband. "A few have… passed through, before, and he does not seem… afraid of, of them. Only true dragons, drakes, such things like that. There was a red dragon, dragon toy, that was gifted to him and he, he panicked before it was even… even given to him."

"Bren?" Tary called for the boy again. He appeared fairly quickly, though lugging the magically pole that turns into most - if not all - of Tary's melee weapons behind him. "Oh, look what you've found!"

"Sword!" The boy cried and the pole, of course, shifted into a sword. 

" _Oh mein Gott-_ "

"Axe!" Bren cried again gleefully before Tary managed to pull the weapon from it. It did turn into an axe, however, as it was made to. "Make it different, Tary, change it!"

"M-Maybe later-" Tary deactivated the weapon and tucked it close. _Now that could have been coincidence but…_ "Smart Bren, answer me one more question. What do you know about a dragon named Thordak?"

The bubbly child that had raced around him since the moment Tary met him suddenly disappeared. Faded, really. His smile melted away and his eyes grew wide, his hands lowering and, despite already being small, seemed to shrink more. Though his eyes went from tearful to suddenly hard, yet distant.

"I hear the voice of my mother in the morning…" 

Tary was positive he wasn't the only one getting chills again. Tary himself has never heard these words come from any Vox Machina member before, but it certainly wasn't something a three year old says all that often either. Something about it was just so… eerie. Maybe it was the clear sentences he was speaking in a language meant to be new to him. Most three year olds can't even speak their own native tongue this well. Especially not… words like this.

"I… wha…"

"Fuck him," Bren turned and went back into the living room. For the next extra heartbeats the adults spent in silence, there was no more sound coming from the toddler.

" _Ich habe ihn noch nie so sprechen hören,_ " Una rasped. " _Ich habe noch nie ein Kind so sprechen hören. Was meint er überhaupt?_ "

"I think I know what's going on with your son," Tary murmured finally, collecting his thoughts and turning back to the Ermendruds. "But I need someone else's opinion as well."

•••

Tary leaving wasn't something that the little Ermendrud seemed eager about. In fact, he immediately whined and latched onto the man's leg, begging him in both Zemnien and Common not to go. His parents had pried him off and he now was squirming unhappily in his mother's grasp while Leofric focused on further questioning. 

"I just need to speak with a woman named Allura Vysoren," Tary told them. "She'll possibly know more."

"What do you need to know about?" Una demanded, holding Bren on her hip, who brightened all of a sudden and chirped a "'Lura!" Tary tried not to give that much thought, tried very hard not to question why Bren seemed to recognize all these names that Tary's been throwing out and hope this was still somehow a large coincidence.

The boy was still carrying one of his wooden doll toys that he'd been playing with before figuring out Tary was planning on going. He looked like a normal child, if you didn't know about the chilling words he spoke and his fears that needed more than just scary stories to develop. 

"We all know he isn't… his mind isn't that… normal," Tary winced, lacking any better terms, and seeing the parents tense in defense. "He knows things that a person would only know if they were told and you're certain he's never been. He knows things about _me_ that he could have only known if I told him myself. That's clearly impossible. I'm not sure what any of this would mean and that's why I need to ask. I can't contact those I need right now so I need to go and retrieve them myself. I'll be back in a few weeks, a little over two at the most, ideally."

"Where are you going, then?" Leofric asked this time.

"To the next continent over, Tal'Dorei. To a city called Emon. I know the place… fairly well and I know people who will help."

"Help with what? Nothing is wrong with Bren, he is fine," Una insisted.

"You said the only time he's acted so happy is when he saw me," Tary pointed out. "Has he truly been miserable all three years of his life? My friends, they can help him. Or at least help you understand him better so that his entire life doesn't have to be like it was before. I'm not going to stick around forever and who knows if this change in behavior will stick once I'm gone. I know this is a bizarre thing from a stranger, but believe me. Your… your son reminds me of someone very dear to me and now it feels… personal. I want to help you. I want to see Bren happy, and not only when I'm around."

"I wanna go," Bren whimpered, still leaning towards Tary in an attempt to persuade the man into holding him again. It almost worked. "Tary, I wanna go."

"No no, Bren, you stay here with your parents..." Tary really didn't want to leave these poor people with a hysterical child, which it seemed to slowly begin to be the case the more Tary refused. It wasn't anything the Artificer could help. There was no way he was taking a _child_ with him to Whitestone, and he couldn't just pack up the family - who barely trusted him to begin with - and take all three. 

Thankfully, he thought of something that may help.

"You, young man, are dubbed an official member of the Darrington Brigade!" 

The sorrow on Bren's face softened to slight confusion. 

"And!" Tary held up a hand to allow himself more time before the boy reacted. "As a member of the Brigade, your job is to stay here when I'm not around and protect your town! How does that sound? I'll be back before you know it anyhow, so just make sure it's all still in one piece when I do. Alright?"

The confusion faded and Bren smiled. Tary took it as only a hesitant victory, since it seemed… too _knowing_ for a toddler, as if Bren knew this was all a joke to try and keep the boy happy until he returned. Based on the past hour or so he spent with the Ermendruds, he started to suspect maybe he _did_ know. 

"Okay."

But the boy agreed, so that's all that mattered right now. With a wave goodbye and a call to Doty, Taryon Darrington left Blumenthal and quickly made his way to the nearest city with a dock that would take him to Emon. 

•••

It was… difficult trying to gain the attention of an Arcanist. He didn't know Lady Vysoren well, and claiming that Vox Machina needed her presence was met with heavy suspicion since it was well known that the heroes were dead and gone. He still wasn't allowed into the Cloudtop District, however, a few guards led the Arcanist from her tower to the gates to address Taryon directly, which was more than enough. 

"Ah. Taryon Darrington, was it? I've heard much about you. Especially your… your book," Allura seemed almost amused by his presence, which was _fine_ , he just needed her to listen. "Using the Vox Machina card was quite… Well, it seems like you truly needed to speak with me so… what is it that you need?"

"I am so sorry to bother you, Lady Vysoren," he began with a slightly awkward, half bow. "I just… I've run into something rather odd in my travels and I wished to discuss it with you, if you have a moment of your time to spare."

Allura regarded him for a moment before sighing. "Well, I've never found myself able to say no to… a member of Vox Machina. Come, Sir Taryon Darrington. Let's talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any Zemnian (German) spoken in this chapter was through the help of Google Translate so forgive me Zemnian Critters if any of the grammer and such is wrong!
> 
> Translated Zemnian (or what I intended it to say):
> 
> Mein Vati ist ein Kämpfer = My father is a soldier.
> 
> Fick deinen Vater = Fuck your father.
> 
> Mutti = Mom
> 
> Was ist das Wort? = What's the word?
> 
> Oh mein Gott- = Oh my God-
> 
> Ich habe ihn noch nie so sprechen hören. Ich habe noch nie ein Kind so sprechen hören. Was meint er überhaupt? = I've never heard him talk like that before. I've never heard any child speak like that before. What does he even mean?


End file.
